Sweet dreams
by Imsii
Summary: are filled with love.
1. A

_Define love_

_Undefinable.  
><em>

* * *

><p>Every Sunday Maya made apple pie.<p>

Or at least she _tried_ to.

Cooking had never been her forte; try as she might. Her passion lay with eating food instead of preparing it to the despair of her chef husband Chase, just as it had sent her Grandma Yolanda into fits of irritation. The talented at cooking gene had definitely skipped her.

Waving the damp dish cloth into the air; she would shriek as black smoke drifted in ringlets from the oven. Small sparks would come from it before turning into black embers. Grabbing an oven mitt, she would yank open the oven door.

Sputtering in indignation; she would helplessly look at the burnt, bubbling leftovers from the remnants of the pie. Her heart sank as she took in the mess – there wasn't any possible way to save it.

"Forgot to check it again, didn't you?"

Hearing a chuckle behind her; she would indignantly whirl around to face her husband.

Leaning against the counter; he would slyly hold up the timer he had bought her; months before when she had started on her pie baking adventures.

"Oh Chase, you know it's not my fault!" She'd cry in reply; her plump bottom lip edging into a pout. Not everyone was meant to be a culinary genius like her love, after all. "Weren't you supposed to be at work still?" She added, wondering at his flour covered hands. Rarely – aside from Sundays was there a day when he ever came back from work when she hadn't fallen asleep in the kitchen chair waiting for him.

"I came running back after I remembered it was Sunday." He replied dryly; a hint of amusement flavoring his voice. A bubblegum colored blush would cover her cheeks as she innocently glanced away from him.

One day she would get better at cooking…though it didn't matter too much. If she became better at it, there wouldn't be any certain distractions to bring Chase back to her!

Happily Maya would lean forwards on the tips of her toes; her head barely reaching her husband's shoulder. Brushing her cheek against his collarbone; a smile would grace her lips as she inhaled the familiar scent of orange his hand would move to cup her chin; tilting her head back slightly, just enough for his lips to be able to capture hers in a chaste kiss.

"_You always do come back." _


	2. B

Bo had a secret.

Friends weren't ever supposed to keep things from each other – at least that's what Luke had always told him. Friends were supposed to tell each other anything and everything.

Secrets were simply _not_ allowed.

But some things he just couldn't find the courage to say.

It was legend that if people were meant to be together; they could fall in love by sharing a single cup of tea together. If a person boiled the water while focusing on their feelings for that person, then when they drank it, they would feel what they felt – and if lucky, reciprocate the feelings in return.

He had never been one to believe in hocus pocus but for once, he was willing to try it.

He would try_ anything_ for him.

It had taken him months of patiently waiting for summer to arrive. Summer was the season of collecting where any herb could be found. But only the blue herb, the rarest and his absolutely favorite herb, would do.

And now a single blue herb lay buried in his rucksack; lovingly arranged beneath delicate, worn pieces of fabric. He had wanted to keep it protected while waiting for just the right time to use it. Everything had to be _exactly_ right.

Today Bo was going to make a perfect cup of tea.

With frost covering the ground and a tree tucked in the corner of his living room; the timing was just right. Tea always went along with snow; at least that's what Bo always thought. Nothing could compare to sipping a nice cup of tea while watching the snowflakes gather against the window pane.

_Just right. _

And he knew just the person he was going to share it with.

"_Would you like a cup of tea, Luke?" _


	3. C

There was a saying that the secret to a man's heart was through his stomach.

That was a saying Yolanda lived her life by.

"Oh Juliuuuuuus!" She called as the bell chimed announcing her arrival. Bustling into the cramped sitting room; she would eagerly set the steaming bowl of chili on the table.

"Yoo-hoo Landi, is that you?" A high pitched voice would call in reply as the owner of the voice danced into the room. The corner of her mouth would twitch in amusement as he used his pet name for her.

As he came close; her sharp eyes would look over his outfit. It had been a long running joke between them that she looked like a pauper with her ever constant stained apron tied about her waist while he looked like a prince with his flawless way of dress; from his gleaming heart earrings to his polished shoes, he was never a mess. That was why she was always intent on finding_ something_, anything wrong with his outfit.

Running her finger against his crisp collar; she would make a tut-tut noise with her tongue at a stray piece of fuzz. Picking the orange string off of it, she would shake her head. "Flawless Julius letting fuzz live on him? You must be in love." At her words he would beam with pleasure; his cheeks flushing in delight.

"She's an absolute doll, Landi! A doll!" He gushed to her; bouncing on the tip of his toes in excitement. Julius had always been a spitfire ball of excitement; even when Yolanda had known him as a child. Filled with endless amounts of energy, he had been fond of putting pudding in her shoes.

Nodding her head in agreement; she would reach for the red spoon she had brought with her. Dipping it into the chili; she would carefully bring it up to his lips. "Yes, yes, I'm sure - now taste."

Obediently he would part his lips, allowing her to give him the spoonful. Only Julius would be able to successfully eat it without a mess dripping down his chin. Closing his eyes, he would make a soft purring sound of happiness. "It's delicious! Delicious Landi. I'm sure she'll love it!"

Julius had always loved her food, just like all the men in her life had. She had always fretted over him as a mother would; wondering when the time would come when he fell in love with someone. To her delight this had happened a few months ago when new people had come to the island – her old friend Shelly and her granddaughters Luna and Candace.

Yolanda had always hoped he would have fallen for one of them and yet he had taken her by surprise – falling in love with Shelly who was withered and gray like her.

Seeing as the only way to Shelly's heart was through cooking or sewing; Julius had begged her, absolutely begged her to help him. What else was she supposed to do when he was on his knee's begging her to help him with it? She had always loved cooking – and it had led to her romance with the Mayor, Hamilton.

So off she had gone; rolling up her sleeves and gathering countless ingredients for meals that would foster love between the two of them.

Julius and Shelly – who would have thought?

She only hoped that Julius had a plan in mind for when they were married. She wasn't going to keep being his chef then. But seeing the love growing between them couldn't help but make her feel younger; especially since her heart felt a special kind of warmth knowing that she was helping their romance foster.

Oh yes, food was the secret to her love life. Or rather creating love lives for_ other_ people.

_She wasn't a cougar, after all. _


	4. D

Chloë loved to dance.

Swaying her hips from side to side; she would close her eyes as the music enveloped her.

It was entirely natural that she adored dancing. With her small and lithe body; she had taken to it like her pet duck Peep took to water. Not to mention the fact that she had been given her doting parents and neighbors "concerts" in the backyard for months now. With each practice and performance, she put all of her love into it that she could.

Though, she knew that even if she were to perform with a paper bag over her head and be a complete and miserable bore (something she would_ never_ be was a bore!) her parents would still lavish praise. Ever since she was born, she had been the center of attention. Seeing as she was the only daughter in the family, there was plenty of attention that people happily lavished upon her.

Even her older brother Owen had been weak at the knees for her; all it took was batting her eye lashes and pertly sticking out her bottom lip for him to cave to her desires. At the age of seventeen she still hadn't shed the lime light; eagerly lapping up attention wherever she could.

And why not?

In her mind, she _entirely_ deserved it.

She was chipper and confident; never a drag. Mayor Hamilton should take a note from her book. It made complete sense to her that people would like her, _adore_ her even. All eyes were always on her.

Except _his_.

Leave it to her to fall in love with the one male who was going to play hard to get! Anyone else would live outside of her door with a barrage of presents for her, waiting for a mere glance or chastely blown kiss from her.

Yet not him, never him.

What luck. Pursing her lips; she would easily shrug her shoulders. There had never been anything that she wanted that she had never achieved; no matter what she had to do to get it. And he certainly wasn't going to avoid her dainty, scheming hands.

Abruptly she would turn on her heel in a twirl. She was amazing at twirls – she crashed into the oak cabinet every time. Her feet were starting to wear a pattern in the plush carpet from her daily habit of doing the same series of steps. It was amazing that it always worked; the results never-changing.

Cringing as her face thumped against the glass door of the cabinet; she would promptly tumble backwards on to the floor. Pain would shoot up her back as she squirmed uncomfortably; warily moving to sit up. "Oomph!" She cried, her blue orbs watering.

Why was love so _painful_?

"Hurt yourself again, Chloë? What did I say about being careful?"

"Oh Doctor, I can't help it. I love dancing too much to stop."

_Almost as much as she loved her daily visits to her favorite Doctor Jin. _


	5. E

Pascal loved eggs.

Every morning he would settle down at the breakfast table, ignoring the cries of Paolo as he babbled on to Ozzie or Toby about how he had plans to catch the "biggest fish in the world". He always had a single omelet with three pieces of bacon, two slices of pepper, and a pinch of crumbled cheese in the middle.

It was the same, always and unchanging.

Lifting the fork to his mouth; his gaze would absent-mindedly wander to the window. Ozzie's house perched right next to the ocean; the calm, turquoise water running in waves beneath their window. Pascal could see his boat, the Loving Lady, bobbing up and down with the water. If he could, he would live in the water for his whole life. How his heart clenched in envy of fish!

Before he had settled in Harmonica Town, he had been content to sail his boat around the world. Around and around he had gone without a care in the world. Sometimes he would pick up travelers, taking them from island to island. More often than not he traveled by himself.

Then one day he found himself cornered by a hurricane; forcing him to stop at one of the smaller islands that dotted about Harmonica Town.

And there he had met _her_.

She was the one with the widest, most innocent and most blue eyes he had ever seen. In them he found eternity; swallowed by their bottomless depths. She was the one with the laughter that made his soul soar; reminding him of the chiming of bells. And in her humility, he found love.

Molly worked at the Dusk Inn; the only inhabited place that existed on the island. Offering him a table, she had whispered that the owner's cooking was atrocious; hers not any better but she _could_ make an omelet, if he wanted.

Accepting her offer; he found awakening in her omelet. It tantalized his senses; the decadent fluffiness of it making his adoration soar. She had underrated her talent by a century; everything he would taste after it would pale in comparison. Even today, he couldn't find anything like it.

When the storm had passed he had begged her to come back with him, see the world together. Bashfully she had declined; seeing him off with a single chaste kiss.

Not a day went by when he didn't think of her.

_She was forever the captain of his heart. _


	6. F

It never rained on Toucan Island.

Always flooded with radiant sunshine, exotic flowers bloomed over the entirety of it. In the background there was always the hush of animals puttering about. Never were there storms, only sunshine.

Until the day came when Sue's world came crashing down.

"_I just want freedom, Mother!"_ Selena had cried to her mother again and again.

And always Sue had shook her head in reply; fully expecting that her daughter would grow out of her silly dreams of being a dancer. Her husband Samson and Sue had always planned on Selena taking over the inn when she became old enough. It would be a nice, stable job and she and her future family would carry on the reputation of the island – the Island of Happiness, as the tourists had named it.

Why couldn't her daughter just have common sense about it?

Curling her fingers about the smooth, grey colored stone Sue would throw it angrily at the water. With a dull splash it would land in the water sending ripples across the surface. It had always been a habit of hers since she was young to go to the pond that lingered on the far side of the island; away from the prying eyes of visiting guests.

She had tried to think for weeks about what to do about her daughter. If there were any way to make her come to reason, Sue would have done it. Her daughter had always been wild; like she had been as a teenager. Food had always calmed her husband and her – it worked the same way with their daughter.

Running with that thought, Sue had even decided to make Selena her favorite treat; decadent pieces of sushi along with some pineapple juice for breakfast. In she had gone to her bedroom – to find an empty, abandoned room.

_Selena had run away. _

Without a note or word, she had simply packed up and left.

How could she do that? How? Silently tears would drip from Sue's watery orbs; her small frame shuddering in her grief. She had never wanted her daughter to leave – it was the opposite, everything she had done was to make Selena _stay_. Digging her feet into the pebble filled sand; she would absently watch as her toes became buried underneath it.

"She'll come back."

Glancing over her shoulder to see the familiar hulking form of her husband; Sue would slowly shake her head. He always knew her so well, without her having to say anything. "You think so? Oh Samson – how could she be so – so _silly_?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Samson would wrap his arms about her waist. Pressing himself against her back; he would gently rest his chin on top of her head. "She's young Su-Su, just give her time."

Leaning her head back, she would frown as she gazed up towards him. Even if Selena was young, she just wanted the best for her. And the best for Selena was a life with them; on Toucan Island. Out in the big world, there wasn't any promise of happiness.

She just didn't want her to get hurt.

"Why didn't she listen to us, Samson? I just don't understand!" With a burst of emotion; her voice would be sharply laced with her frustration. Why was Selena so intent on chasing her dream? It didn't make a lick of sense to Sue.

"We were young too, Su-Su." Nuzzling his cheek against her scalp; he would sigh. "I remember your father didn't approve of my dream to run this inn with you. He wanted us to stay with him, remember?"

Pausing Sue would close her eyes; her lips fighting a smile. It was true – her father had wanted them to stay with him, insisting that Samson become a partner in his fishing business. Samson had insisted on following through with his dream of starting an inn.

Despite all of her father's inhibitions, they had gone through with it – how far they had come! When they had first moved to the island; the only thing there had been overgrown vegetation and the remnants of a shack. And just look at the island now, known for miles and miles around as the island were happiness bloomed and dreams came into reality.

With hitched breath; Sue would smack her forehead.

"I've been like my father, haven't I?"

Silently Samson would nod against her shoulder; his nose brushing against her hair. How foolish she had been; trying to do the same thing as her father had done, without even realizing it. Squeezing her hands together; she let her shoulders settle in determination.

She had to let go.

Selena deserved the same chance that they had. She wasn't going to make Selena fight for her freedom like they had had to fight from her father.

Selena had dreams too.

"We can always try again." Softly he would whisper into her ear; peppering sweet kisses along her shoulders. "I doubt Selena would like a little brother but maybe we'll find ourselves with a little innkeeper."

"Oh you" Unable to help herself, Sue would chuckle in amusement.

Her husband was always able to cheer her up.

"_Thank you for making me see sense." _


	7. G

Three times the Harvest Goddess had been foolish.

The first time had been during the beginning of her world. With her gentleness she had created nature, with her fantasy she had created the skies, and with her love she had created humans.

With that fateful decision, her path had been set.

The second time was when she created her loneliness. Shrouded by the veil of her realm; she was forever forced to stay in it. She was life itself as Gaia was. Found within her was eternity.

Betrayed by the humans she had created, she watched them endlessly. They hated just as they loved and loved just as they hated. She wept; wallowing in her sorrow as she longed to be a part of _their_ world. For in hers she was alone; her world as barren of life as the world she had created for them was filled to the brim with life.

With this, she created her loneliness.

The third time was when a man threw his heart into the grasping depths of the ocean.

For Gaia in her loving ways had made the cruelest mistake of all when she made humans. For humans knew not always how to love. When she created love; it was something that could be restricted by no mortal or immortal. It was a free creature; illuminating its light over the darkest of shadow covered hearts.

Humans were too fragile to embrace love.

And it was in this that she made her error for their mistakes were her own as her mistakes were theirs to take.

Beset by grief with his love's death, he had decided to cease his light to that of darkness. So pure had their love been that his soul had sunk into the bottomless depths; his world mingling with the realm of hers. The light of their affections called to her.

For even Gaia had yet to know love.

"_Serva me, servabo te."_ She had whispered into his ear; breathing life into him.

And with that, everything that was hers became his.

With her single movement of sharing the beauty of life with him; he had become a part of her. Her love, her knowledge, her endless memories were all his. For she was Gaia – and Gaia was everything.

Just as he became _her_ everything.

Slowly his eyes would open; piercing, grey orbs meeting magnificently tender blue ones. Her hopes soared free as she became utterly enraptured with his gaze. She could find herself lost in it; her lips settling into a pleased smile. For all the millennia's she had been alive, never, never had there been a time when she had felt like this. To be shed of the heavy chains of loneliness that restricted her!

With him, she would be _free_.

There were endless possibilities for them. Her world was a world of what ifs, nothing was limited, nothing daunting. Everything and anything was possible.

Any and all of his whims would be fulfilled; his wishes entangled with hers.

"_Why?"_

His bell like voice had chimed in horror; his agony washing over her.

For she had made a_ mistake_.

The man wished not for endless life but for death. In her he wouldn't find his salvation; only his penance. The dreams of being by her side wasn't what he wanted nor desired. She wasn't his love, she was only an illusion of the life that was lost to his lover. In this Gaia was naïve of what the heart longs for; what the heart needs.

He didn't _need_ her.

He didn't _want_ her.

And yet

_He was hers_.

She could feel it; the silk of the love the man had for his deceased love, slipping and weaving through her fingers. It was cast from the very pureness of the heart from which she had created humans. It caressed her senses; enticing them as she was compelled to it, as people observing love very often are, for despite being Gaia; no one could resist the pull of love. Even death had not cast an ocean of doubt on his feelings for her.

And nothing would, Gaia saw that; the steady, unchanging light their love was a testament to that. Their love would be everlasting in its depth.

With regretful admiration, Gaia would sigh; feeling the shrouds of loneliness approaching once more.

"_Fluctuat nec mergitur."_

Even the mother of the world made mistakes; incorrigible faults that would be imprinted on her skin. It was her mistake that had led the man's life to here. He was another's, his heart resting in the hands of a tender soul. Their paths had intertwined when they had been forbidden, her whims had been subjected on the mortal world – something her wishes and desires should never do. There was a line that she had created for herself and them; one that needed to be followed and obeyed.

Yet she didn't want to release him entirely. A selfish part of her yearned for him to stay with her. That was why she would indulge herself; letting his shimmering fragments of his memory of her infatuation with him live on eternally in one way.

"_Quid me nutrit me destruit."_ Withdrawing her hand back; she would cup her hands together. Wisps of fragile blue light would form in her hands; slowly interlocking to form a small bird. The man's form would start to shine along with it; leaving just the shadows of his former form. For now his soul was a part of it; the bird as much of a man as he was a bird.

"_Amare et sapere vix deo conceditur." _

Throwing the bird up into the air, it would glide effortlessly; its small form bursting into a magnificent looking phoenix. Behind it blazed a trail of blue fire; the light illuminating its graceful form. The phoenix was her love, for eternity.

And within him humans would find a single tendril of their love; found in his array of feathers.

"_Decorde totaliter, et ex mente tota, sum presentialiter, absens in remota."_

* * *

><p><em>Serva me, servabo te – Save me and I will save you<em>

_Fluctuat nec mergitur - __It is tossed by the waves but it does not sink_

_Quid me nutrit me destruit - What nourishes me also destroys me._

_Amare et sapere vix deo conceditur - Even a god finds it hard to love and be wise at the same time._

_Decorde totaliter, et ex mente tota, sum presentialiter, absens in remota - With all my heart and all my soul, I am with you, even though I am far away_


	8. H

Halloween had always been Hamilton's favorite time of year.

Impatiently he would mark off the days until_ it_ came.

_A_ masquerade.

_The_ masquerade.

_The _masquerade that made him feel gloriously _alive_ as no other time could.

While foul ghouls played among the pumpkin fields, the villagers would dance away the hours. Clothed in glittering masks and illustrious costumes, their identities would be lost to the night. Bathed in moonlight the only reflections would be from the candlelight that illuminated the town square.

And there, they would meet.

Through the crowd they would mingle, coming despairingly close to one another before being whisked away. Over and over again they were subjected to the cruelest of torments; their fingertips nearly touching until the clock struck twelve.

Then, they were free.

With rapidly beating hearts they would hurry towards each other; steadily slowing as their steps became weighted with anticipation.

_Hannah._

It was always the same; Hamilton swallowing back the words he wanted – _needed _to say. For the sake of discovery; they had to keep such things locked away. Sweeping a curtsy in front of him, she would tilt her head in silent acknowledgement. Stiffly he would bow his head in reply.

With bated breath they would part their lips to speak; their words escaping at once with another.

Always, always it was the same.

"_Dance with me_"

"_Yes_"

The rustling of silk would be all they heard as he crushed her to him; losing himself in her embrace.

Only then they could meet; greedily snatching the hours away as only lovers could. Time passed effortlessly as they found life itself in their shy kisses and discreet, hushed declarations of everlasting love. They completed one another, entirely.

And as the night drew to a close with the creeping sun casting shadows over them; their eyes would meet. And in their gaze; they would each betray the words they longed to say.

"_I love you"_


	9. I

In _Him _he found his damnation.

In _her_ he found his salvation.

_He let her go. _


	10. -

Perry had never thought of himself as an impractical man.

Never was there something he let fall to shambles.

Never was there something he forgot about.

Never was there something he let go.

Until it came to her.

_Mira_.

She alone could bring him to his knees.

No matter where he was; he could close his eyes and be free, roaming about in his thoughts of her.

Bound in her grief she had come to him; her heart to devotion as a moth would be to a flame.

He was the incarnation of peace itself.

And so he had comforted her as his duty required him to. He had sworn his devotion to God and yet so easily had his devotion turned to her.

What a beautiful viper she was! Her beauty, her touch, her_ love_ was the apple he was wildly, desperately grasping for.

For now he was eternally lost in the loving bosom of a viper.

Keeping his hands constricted in his lap, he would play the part of the statue as she wept. The softest of whispers had echoed through the church as he offered his condolences, his prayers, and his sympathy.

"What a pious man you are, Father." She had whispered to him.

_Father_.

Those six letters chained him to the world, he was the same as any prey caught in a spider's web. It was the web of the life he had chosen; a life defined by piety and practicality.

If only it would be so easy as to throw off the name, as it would be to throw off the vow.

_Oh how terribly impractical love was. _


	11. J

"Don't say it."

His steps falter as he recoils from her words.

Will justifications not do today?

"It's the same, Jin. Always the fucking same."

Her words are biting – cruel even as she throws them at him.

But it's the truth.

Is he any less cruel to her?

He doesn't think about what he says, not anymore. Withered in him is the desire to speak, to breathe, to _live_.

Parting his lips, thoughtless sound escape him.

"It's only for today." He murmurs; using what she always referred to as his "Doctor" voice. What he considers soothing she considers condescending.

"Only for today? You _live_ in today!"

Spinning around to face him, her agony is clearly etched across her features.

He wished she hadn't.

It's easier to pretend that way.

Slowly she raises her hand towards him.

He doesn't flinch.

"_Everything_ you do Jin, everything is for her." Her voice raises into shrill octaves; the brittleness of it all stinging his ears. "Don't think I don't notice that you keep her locket in your pocket or that you don't think "I wish it was her" when we're together!"

Her chest heaves as her anger sputters. With a hiss of disgust she moves away from him; her arms coming to protectively wrap around her chest.

"You love her_. Still_."

Still.

As if he could forget her.

She was Sophie.

She was Sophie in the morning; Sophie when she had slept in his arms; Sophie when she whispered her fantasies and desires to him.

_She_ was his love.

In her place was a crude replacement.

"Say something" Chloe demands; her voice cracking.

But he doesn't.

For there was nothing he could say that would bring her back.

The door slams; the weak frame of the house shaking_. _

_His heart weeps. _


	12. K

"_Heads"_

"Tails" Kathy would murmur smugly; watching intently as the small, silver quarter landed on her side. For the last week they had been locked in a gambling duel.

Each time she had won to her poor husband's chagrin.

Sitting back Owen would huff in frustration. Firmly his hand would come down to slap the wooden table; the dull thud echoing his anger. "Again!" He growled out.

"Are you sure about that?" Her tone would be teasing as she gathered up the quarter; idly rubbing it between her fingers. She knew her lucky streak wasn't going to end soon.

At least, she hoped it wouldn't.

Kathy wasn't even letting herself consider any other possibility. There couldn't be any other possibility – there _wasn't_ any other possibility. Not for her, not for them. There wasn't anything in the world that she wanted more than to have children. To gather up _their_ kids in her arms, to comfort them, to guide them, to watch them grow up – there wasn't anything she wanted more.

Owen suggested they buy a plant instead.

"But Kathy…" He shifted uncomfortably in his seat; inhaling shortly. "We just aren't ready yet."

_But_.

That wasn't a word Kathy ever liked to use. It was too close to an excuse; something she detested. Excuses weren't a luxury she allowed herself, ever. She preferred to get things done instead. With this though, she was ready to use that word.

Didn't he understand how much she wanted this?

A family.

A family with _him_.

Running his bulky hand through his hair; he would prop his elbow up on the table. His brown orbs would meet hers intently. "What about a proposition?"

Her curiosity would rise at his response. Owen was more like an ox – relying on his strength and his go getter attitude instead of logic. Normally the job was left to her to run circles about him; instead of the other way around.

"What is it?"

"A puppy."

Startled, Kathy's lips would part to make an 'O' shape.

A_ puppy_?

"We could start with a puppy and – and if that went well, we could" Pausing Owen would ease back in the chair; his tone oozing in uncertain possibility. "We could – I would think about being a parent. I just don't trust myself yet."

"Trust yourself?" She echoed; her eyebrows scrunching in confusion.

"To be gentle."

And suddenly it made sense.

Owen had always been afraid, shuddering away from the times when Chloë had offered to let him hold his niece. Even the times when he had made love to her, he had always restrained himself; trying to treat her as if she were made of glass.

It made no sense to her at the time.

As a blacksmith he was able to craft anything from his hands. Just as he destroyed, he created.

"You are the kindest soul I know, Owen. You're as gentle as a teddy bear." She murmured. Her seat would squeak as she moved her chair back, moving to stand next to him. Circling her arms about his shoulders she would brush a chaste kiss against his cheek.

"Do you really think so?" He asked slowly.

"I do Owen, I do." Kathy replied confidently; nuzzling her cheek against his. And she did mean it – she knew him better than anyone. He would hardly hurt a fly, let alone anyone else. The man she was in love with was perfect in her eyes. Silently Owen would press his cheek against hers in return, a mute moment of understanding passing between them.

Sighing she would shake her head. Looking back at it – she had been silly, hadn't she? While looking at what she had wanted, she hadn't paid attention to _why_ he had felt the way he had. Instead she had only focused on her own needs and wants. Pressing her chest against his back, she would warmly snuggle against him.

"A puppy, we can start with a puppy."

_She agreed. _


	13. L

Vivi had always adored love birds.

They were forever intertwined as a pair; appropriately so she had named them Milk and Sugar. For a millennia now she had worn their first fallen feathers on a necklace that permanently circled about her neck.

Sweet and gentle they sang their praises every morning.

And every morning she wished that she had her own love bird, instead of the vulture that stalked her. Clinging to the shadows it took shape; following her to the ends of the Earth – quite_ literally_.

Vivi had learned long ago there was no escaping it.

_He_ would always find her.

It was _it_.

* * *

><p>She would have been able to recognize the faint aroma of coffee anywhere, even if she had been miles away.<p>

"Does our dear Goddess need something? Are the beanstalk failing to grow again?" Sneering, Vivi crossed her arms over her chest. What did she care?

She owed that despicable woman nothing, absolutely _nothing_.

"…Vivi."

"I told you not to call me that." She snapped, stamping her foot in annoyance.

How _dare_ he?

He was only a day's walk away and only after seventy years came to see her with the new comer to the island, after she had turned herself into a frog. And now he showed up on her doorstep expecting that she would let him back into her life again. "I'm the _Witch_, you're the _Wizard_. Get it through your thick head!" Her voice rose as her petite frame began to quiver.

Mind you, she had turned herself into a frog in order to try and save _his_ Harvest Goddess.

_His_ happiness mattered to her.

Just slightly.

Silently he glided forwards, his cloak billowing out behind him. His hand stretched out towards her, his index finger stroking her cheek. Why did he have to act tender? Why? Couldn't he just hate her like she hated him? That would make it all easier – then it wouldn't be painful.

He must have been doing this on purpose. His fingers curled about the hem of her nightgown, easily sliding the fabric over her head. If only he had been rough with her.

Then she could have been angry with him.

Then she would have been able to _hurt_ him.

"Why do we meet every century?" Vivi demanded, her irises glinting harshly. "Either take me as yours or be let me go!"

It was nonsense to protest against him, she knew that. He'd never let her go, no matter what she did because she wasn't going to let _him_ go.

They were as desperate as each other for out of all the people in the world, they alone understood each other.

"You enchant me, Vivi…"

And there they went.

The thread of self-control snapped between them; her defenses pushed away as he bared his soul to her. Tumbling and falling into each other. It was always like this. They were exploring each other, embracing each other. It was a frenzy of the senses, nothing sweet or controlled about it. It was a dithering madness, one that gripped at her soul as he came to claim his prey.

Nothing else mattered in that moment.

It was them, it was her, and it was him.

The world could have gone up in flames and they wouldn't have cared. Memorizing, enchanting, nothing could justly describe it.

They were magnets. Drawn to each other, they could only orbit about one another before touching, even for the briefest of moments.

And this was their moment.

They _needed _each other.

They could revel in one another, touching with fire behind it. His touches singed her; crisping her heart with each moment. Once she had wondered if it were possible to live and die at the same time.

This was her answer.

She was drowning. Drowning in him and everything about him; submerged in it until she could hardly breathe. Gasping for breath, she writhed underneath him.

_Why?_

Why couldn't she free herself from him?

* * *

><p>"<em>I'm a witch." Horror, horror was the only feeling that she had known then. It was because of what she was that the rest of the children wouldn't play with her.<em>

_It was as if she were a bird trapped in a cage. Voices whispered all about her, people casting their weary gazes toward her._

_She was utterly __**alone**__._

_In a world of love, she was not meant to be loved, for she was a witch._

_One day, she would show them. Surely she would place curses on them all, make them pay for what they had done to her._

"_You are a girl." A voice had observed from behind her._

"_What? Who are you?" Anger boiled in her veins as she had whirled around to see the boy; her eyes burning with irritation. Hadn't she come here to find solace? Here where she was safe. Here where no one could touch her with their silly words or their thumping fists._

"_You're a girl. And I'm a boy." He repeated, returning her glare blankly. An impudent smirk perched itself on his features as he stepped forwards. "I'll show you."_

_Wrapping his arms about her waist, his lips gently met hers. At that moment her fury crumbled, succumbing to the depths of an emotion too complicated to name. He had done something unimaginable, the dolt! He had kissed her._

_That was the very moment the Witch Princess's heart was captured by the vulture.  
><em>

* * *

><p>He had seen her as the person she was. She wasn't a witch or a princess, she was a <em>girl<em>.

But why,_ why_ had it been him?

She knew that she shouldn't persist with the issue. It would only hurt her in the end. She would have done anything for him – she _would _do anything for him. Yet he was like a star in the sky. Shining, brilliant as he illuminated her world, but vanishing in the blink of an eye. He would burn her if she came too near; too precious for her to keep for herself.

Their pants filled the air; increasing as their bodies intertwined together. She folded her body about his, her arms clinging about his neck. At least in this moment she could possess him, even for a moment.

"_Sephia!"_

And then it was lost.

The fragile hold she had on him was gone.

Her heart tore, jaggedly leaving pieces behind. Why could a heart not break evenly or neatly? It would have been easy then – her pain contained in the corner of her chest.

Instead it spilled over into the rest of her; infiltrating her lungs and burning through her veins.

Her memories, her feelings, everything was contaminated with _pain_.

Tears threatened to spill from her eyes. She wouldn't let them fall.

She was a _Witch_.

And that was something she would never forget. Not for love, not for peace, nothing. If it were to be her destruction, she would accept that. At least she would have her pride.

Because it was something that couldn't leave her.

It was _what_ she was.

It was _who_ she was.

Yet in that; she knew she would never be able to compete with _her_. Sephia, the Harvest Goddess was never going to be replaced in his heart, not by a witch, a princess, or even a mere girl.

No, Sephia was there to stay.

Tracing circles along his chest, she couldn't help but leave a trail of kisses behind. Her lips lingered near his neck, her tongue darting out to caress the tender skin. Not even here could she enchant him. Or curse him for the fact that the blood oozing from the cracks in her heart was filled to the brim with adoration.

Just maybe she did love him.

And just maybe she loved him with all of her being.

Magic beings had always been selfish creatures. With an everlasting eternity of idleness to play with, they were guided only by their whims and desires. While fairy tales ran rampant with their exemplary use of power, in reality they had no direction or moral compass.

When Sephia, their _loving_ mistress had created them, she hadn't given them a purpose. She had wanted them to act as play things of beauty; play things that could never leave her.

Sephia was the most selfish of them all.

And Vivi hated her for that fact.

Maybe that was why she couldn't let go of him. He was the very living proof that they could be _more_. They didn't have to spend an existence pandering to Sephia's whims – they could be free from _her_. They could love; they could feel what humans felt. But it wasn't quite the same.

He didn't love_ her_.

"Do you think?" Pausing for a moment, Vivi shrugged her shoulders. What difference would it make now to ask? It wasn't as if anything would change, she knew the answer. Yet still, still the taste of hope clung to the tip of her tongue.

"…?"

"Could you have loved me? In another time?"

Sliding his arms about her shoulders, he pressed himself against her chest. Leaning his head down on to her shoulder, his lips caressed her ear. Humph. She should have known better – the coward always responded with touch, never words. His soft touches hurt more than anything he could said.

_He should have been her coward._

Instead, he had chosen that silly, selfish goddess Sephia.

He wouldn't hurt _her_.

He wouldn't use _her _this way.

He would only treat her, the Witch Princess, like this.

The hold Sephia had over him was an unbreakable one; created from the very embers of the world. She had ensnared him in her web as a spider would its prey. There wasn't any way that Vivi could break that.

_Need_ he could feel for her, not love. Need, desire, want, any word that she called it still wasn't the one that she sought. Love – love was for Sephia, desire for her.

It was an endless game that they were caught in; a never ending triangle that would never break.

But still he wouldn't let her go.

"You're a fool." She murmured harshly.

"Am I?"

"A fool who should let this Witch go."

How she longed to say _his_.

"The fool should…but the Witch would find the fool again."

"Would she?"

"Yes…she would…because"

"Because?"

"_The Witch is a girl who loves a boy just as the Fool is a boy who loves a girl." _


	14. M

Gill had never seen the sun set or the moon rise.

Neither had she.

He stayed because of work.

So did she.

They both knew the truth.

"Working late again?"

"Obviously."

Her lips stay curved in a complacent smile.

Only the retreating sign of her back betrays her.

"Wait-"

His hand reaches out towards her; a single straying of his knuckle against her apron betraying his intentions.

"Yes?"

His heart flutters.

"Elli…don't go."

He's never asked her to stay.

"My shift isn't over yet, sir."

_Sir_.

He frowns.

The word symbolizes the growing distance between them.

He _hates_ it.

"Gill, Elli, call me Gill."

He longs to hear her voice whisper his name.

"Gill."

Pleasure graces him.

The ticking of the clock matches his heart as they sit side by side; she diligently typing away, he pouring over documents. With pen in hand he poises over a document, drafts of protest withering away before they can escape his lips.

Until.

Stilling, he tries to swallow.

His throat wants to close as unwillingly his lips part.

"I saw your resignation letter."

She pauses.

"Hamilton will give you a sterling review."

He grips the pen tighter; ink splattering from the tip as he presses it against the page.

"Your father is very kind."

Her voice radiates pleasure.

_Why_?

"I won't let him."

Shifting his gaze towards her; he arrogantly shrugs his shoulders.

_She_ made him feel weak.

In any one else, he would resent that.

"Excuse me?"

Their gazes meet.

His eyes betray more than he could say.

"Stay here, Elli. Stay with us. My father – he needs you here."

He hopes she'll catch his lie.

"I'll stay where I'm needed then."

He smiles.

_She does. _


End file.
